


Unquenchable Thirst

by Konfessor2U



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Boys Kissing, Johnlock - Freeform, Licking, M/M, anatomy is sexy, neck porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-20 13:27:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1512248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Konfessor2U/pseuds/Konfessor2U
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"That rhythmic swallowing, the shifting of his larynx under taut skin, the long and lean muscles contracting with each gulp, it was doing terrible things to John’s cock."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unquenchable Thirst

**Author's Note:**

> Started as a sexy scenario sent in a Tumblr ask to Painlock. 
> 
> It got away from me.
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

Sherlock and John had just come in from chasing a crazed suspect all across London, the usual.  Sherlock shed his coat, carelessly tossing it over John’s chair and quickly undoing a few of his shirt buttons. Three hours of constant chase down to the Underground, up fire escapes, and across roofs left him hot and feeling rather sticky, and thirsty as hell.

He reached into the fridge for a bottle of water, which he chugged as fast as possible. John could only helplessly look on, eyes glued to his flat mate’s neck. That rhythmic swallowing, the shifting of his larynx under taut pale skin, the long and lean muscles contracting with each gulp, it was doing terrible things to John’s cock.

John had to turn away for a moment, because the sight of Sherlock’s throat presented to him like that will do him in; so vulnerable and so fucking sexy.

_Fuck. Pull yourself together, Watson. It’s Sherlock, he probably doesn't even know he is doing it. Not his area, remember?_

That thought flew right out of his consciousness when he turned back to his flat mate, whose dark eyes were now deviously trained on him, mouth curved with a hint of a smirk.

"Sherlock?" He was treading cautiously, but mostly he wanted to test how Sherlock was actually feeling about the sexual tension in the room, thick enough to cut with a knife.

"John." The loose, deep rumbling of his response told John “yes, push me.”

"Drink another." He demanded, using his best Captain voice, not that Sherlock needed the motivation to comply.

He grabbed another bottle without hesitation and tipped his head back, and much slower this time, he began swallowing.

John was entranced. He couldn't keep away any longer and he found himself in front of Sherlock, laying his palm at the base of the man’s throat, fingers following the curve of his neck. The muscles and tendons moved smoothly under his hand and he could feel a wave of peristalsis push a bolus of water downwards.

"God, Sherlock." He tightened his grip immensely before letting go, allowing his hand to wander to the back of Sherlock’s neck, into his curls.

Yanking sharply, he exposed that pale expanse of skin further, causing Sherlock to abruptly stop drinking. Some of the water dribbled down his chin and neck, and god, did that look enticing?

John lapped at the tiny trail of water, dragging his mouth all the way up to follow the path taken by the drop. Licking the underside Sherlock’s chin, John noted that some stubble was beginning to grow in, threatening to disrupt his usual clean-cut appearance.

John could feel the vibrations of Sherlock’s groan on his tongue, and those vibrations ripped through him, going straight to his cock. He paused to close his eyes for a few seconds, trying to gain some semblance of control over this situation. If he knew Sherlock tasted this good, it wouldn't have taken them three months to get to this moment.

Finally, John’s attempt to lick every last spilled drop of water from Sherlock’s neck culminated at his mouth, those luscious, cupid-bow lips. He softly traced along his bottom lip with tiny little kitten licks, surprised momentarily when Sherlock reached his own tongue out, brushing John’s tongue in the process. They froze for a moment before John decided that he wanted all or nothing, and he lunged for Sherlock’s mouth, attacking it with a fierce passion.

John found his hands were comfortable while gently wrapped around Sherlock’s slim neck as he kissed him. It was mostly firm presses of their lips, with a few exploratory jabs of tongue. He allowed himself a cheeky swipe along the roof of Sherlock’s mouth before pulling away and he absolutely reveled in the way the detective shivered at the tickle.

They stood there in the kitchen admiring each other, not saying a word but it actually meant everything.

Since Sherlock had taken the liberty of opening the top of his shirt a little, John couldn't pass up the opportunity to drag his fingertips down the line of his neck which morphed into lovely collar bones, jutting out sharply, yet invitingly.

John pressed his thumb into the hollow at the base of Sherlock’s neck causing the detective to take in a reflexive deep breath. After the initial shock of pressure at his throat, he tipped his head back to give up more of himself. Stepping away, John took Sherlock’s hand in both of his and looked at him very seriously.

“Do you want this?” They didn't have to discuss what he meant. The sexual tension had been growing between them since day one; John always claiming to be “not gay”, and Sherlock insisting that he was “married” to his work.

“Yes, John.” His sharp eyes studied the doctor, taking in every minute detail, as usual. Beginnings of a smile pulled at the corners of John's mouth, which quickly spread its infectious happiness to Sherlock.

John dropped his hand and retrieved another bottle of water from the refrigerator, fresh and cold. He flashed a devilish smile as he headed down the hallway to Sherlock’s bedroom.

“Good. Because when we start, there is no possible way that I’ll be able to stop.” He called back.

Sherlock nodded dumbly and followed, ridding himself of his shirt along the way.

Immediately, John pushed Sherlock down to sit on the bed so he could stand in between his knees. Sherlock had to strain his neck to look up at him without leaning back. He decided that he quite liked to be under John, out of control. It was liberating for a change.

He barely blinked as John dripped a cold drop of water on his bottom lip. It sluiced down his pale neck, leaving tiny rivulets in its wake.

The cold didn't bother him, the water warmed quickly against his skin anyway. What really made him hypersensitive was the slow and deliberate drag of John’s tongue before he moved to devour his mouth. He just couldn't be bothered to keep quiet but John didn't seem to mind in the very least, he smiled into Sherlock’s mouth when he heard a tiny moan slip from him.

John didn't linger too long with the kissing though. He held a firm hand on Sherlock’s shoulder after carefully positioning his arm a certain way. It wasn't too uncomfortable, but perhaps a bit awkward.

“Hold your breath.” John demanded and Sherlock complied without question.

Cold water was slowly being poured into the tiny saucer created by his collarbone and it forced goose bumps to spread across his flesh despite the relatively warm temperature in the room. It leeched the heat from his skin, warming up. John held his gaze while he waited.

When a few intimate moments had passed, John bent to Sherlock’s shoulder to lick him again. His tongue flicked into the groove, clearing the water and tickling his flesh well after the water had gone.

“God, Sherlock. I could stay here all night and just taste you.” He nipped the tight flesh pulling over the man’s shoulder and sucked it into his mouth, enjoying Sherlock’s deep rumble. “Mmmm, you taste so good. Better than I anticipated.”

John pushed him roughly until he was on his back. "You anticipated?" Sherlock must have been in a state, not normally being one to repeat things.

“Yes, you idiot and I have much more planned for you.”

“Yes.” Sherlock replied coolly, but his body completely betrayed his indifference. John observed his dark eyes, his warm flushed skin, his slightly increased respiration and the most obvious, especially now that he lay stretched out on his back, his swelling erection. On top of it all, he could practically see his pulse jumping from where he stood.

“Yes.” John whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> [My tumblr](http://konfessor2u.tumblr.com/)


End file.
